


Kogarashi

by Little_Miss_Bunny



Series: Loving You Always [8]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Japan, Assassination, I Tried, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Language of Flowers, M/M, Multi, Murder, Sawada Tsunayoshi is Not Dame, War, possible historical inaccuracies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 06:34:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20372290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Miss_Bunny/pseuds/Little_Miss_Bunny
Summary: Prompt: "An Ancient Japan setting"(Cross-posted from FF)





	Kogarashi

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Kogarashi  
Requested by: Nuvola De Demone  
Pairings: 10thGenx27  
Additional Notes: Any resemblance to other people is purely coincidental. Some creative liberties were taken for the sake of the story, which is mostly centered around fictional cities during the time period. Lambo will be referred to as Hideo in this since I didn't like how off his name sounded in this setting.
> 
> This isn't a new story, just an old one-shot I forgot to cross-post, haha.

_Kogarashi_ – the withering wind that comes at the start of winter and blows the last leaves off the trees

* * *

**May 5, 1531: Namimori, Japan: Hibari Household**

"Welcome back, Hibari-sama."

Kyoya brushed past his adviser without giving the other man a glance. Easily shedding off his bloody armor and paddings, he dropped them unceremoniously to the ground with a loud thump. Hayato sighed behind him, but Kyoya didn't pay him any mind. "I already sent word to Kusakabe-san," Hayato said. "He will be here shortly."

Kyoya assessed the wounds Mukuro afflicted on him in their skirmish earlier that day. They were shallow yet dangerously close to some essential organs. He clicked his tongue before removing the top of his robe to gauge more of his torso. Some parts were already bandaged from prior battles, but blood had already seeped through, staining them red. His enemy was just as skilled as he was with the blade; however, Kyoya had made sure to slice more than skin and muscle before Mukuro retreated with his men, the same mocking smile etched on his bloody lips.

It drove Kyoya mad how he hadn't killed him yet.

Still, this skirmish was longer than the others. The body count was higher than usual and only a third of his men managed to return home with him. Kyoya didn't say a word to them or acknowledged their groans of pain. He only rode ahead to deal with his furious thoughts alone and avoid any unnecessary chatter. They knew how to take care of themselves; there was no need in pampering them.

Hayato was quiet while Kyoya assessed his injuries. His adviser was smart enough to leave him to his thoughts, which was the only reason he kept the man by his side for so long. Others would've thought it was admirable (or suicidal) for anyone to stand Kyoya's temperament, but Kyoya saw it as an inconvenience. Hayato was only an herbivore after all.

"Rokudo escaped again," Hayato said blandly.

Kyoya just clicked his tongue irritably. "Don't _speak_."

Hayato continued without missing a beat. The man was already used to Kyoya's short temper and still persisted anyways. "I advised you many times to attack him from behind. He never guards his backlines because you always charge at his front."

Kyoya glared at him, but Hayato looked unfazed. "Remember your place, herbivore."

"I am your adviser, Hibari-sama. I am supposed to be counseling you."

Kyoya unsheathed his sword and pointed it dangerously close to Hayato's neck. The blade pressed lightly onto the man's jugular vein. "I will not repeat myself."

Pursing his lips, Hayato didn't continue any further, his face paler than usual. A knock came from the door.

"Hibari-sama, Kusakabe-san is here," one of the servants announced.

"Allow him in," Hayato said tightly.

The door slid open and the physician walked inside with a bow. His hair was wild as always, as if he ran all the way here, yet his appearance was still clean-cut and neat. Nothing was out of place. He merely raised a brow upon seeing the two men in a tense stalemate. "Hibari-sama," he said, carrying his usual kit, "please sit."

Kyoya grunted before sheathing his sword and sitting down with as much grace he could muster. Kusakabe knelt by his side, then gently poked and prodded his bruised skin. If it were anyone else, Kyoya would have lashed out, but Kusakabe had been with him as long as he could remember and was an irreplaceable ally. He was still an herbivore though, just like the rest of them.

"I will have to clean your wounds," Kusakabe said. "You sustained more than usual today."

Kyoya scowled. "Just finish your duty and leave."

Wordlessly, the physician unwrapped Kyoya's old bandages and started cleaning his injuries, careful not to agitate the shallow cuts. The tension in Kyoya's body didn't wane even after Kusakabe finished redressing his wounds. There was a hush of silence that neither of the men disturbed. Other than the strain of fabric and the chirping of birds outside, no one spoke.

Finally, Kusakabe started packing up his kit. "I recommend that you don't move around too much, Hibari-sama," he said, despite knowing that his words would fall on deaf ears. "Your wounds are more extensive this time and you will bleed out if you agitate them. Perhaps, consider not going out to battle for the next few weeks. Preferably for the rest of the year."

Hibari tugged his bloody robe over his strong shoulders and was already standing before Kusakabe stopped speaking. "Leave."

Kusakabe let out a small breath that almost resembled a sigh, then composed himself and stood up. He bowed. "Please be more careful. I prefer not to see your corpse the next time we meet."

Kyoya just grunted and brushed his fingers over the firm bandages. Scowling again, he imagined digging his blade into Mukuro's stomach, twisting and pulling hard enough to spill his filthy guts onto the floor.

_Next time will be his last._

However, a small part of him knew that it wouldn't be. It was only slightly comforting to think that way. It was how he managed to sleep at night.

"Hibari-sama," Hayato said, making his irritating presence known again, "you should get ready to go to Yamamoto-sama's home soon."

"I am not going."

Hayato continued to speak dryly as if Kyoya didn't say anything. "Your bath is ready and your kimono has already been prepared. I would recommend that you don't upset Yamamoto-sama and Sasagawa-sama like last time."

A surge of irascibility swelled in Kyoya's chest. He somehow managed to keep it at bay by taking a deep breath. Takeshi and Ryohei were powerful daimyos like him in Namimori, and the only clan heads to ally with his clan, which ruled the city. Their coalition fended off other warlords who struggled to take whatever land they could for their own control. He found it trivial, and ultimately dismissed the strong contention that ran through the nation despite Hayato's warnings of doing so.

It took only one battle for the other daimyos to back off Namimori, making it completely untouchable and undesirable. Kyoya had already staked his claim, and it was within his rights to bare his teeth when anyone challenged him.

If only that fool, Mukuro, got the message.

Even though Hayato had informed him that Mukuro was uninterested in claiming Namimori—the man already ruled Kokuyo and was content with his position—Kyoya didn't care. Anyone who dared to step a foot in his territory would be bitten to death and thrown away to rot.

Hayato looked at him expectantly, not taking no for an answer this time, and Kyoya had no choice but to leave his room for the bathhouse. If Mukuro was irritating, Takeshi and Ryohei were infuriating, especially when he didn't join them when asked. Their gatherings were trivial and a waste of his time.

"I will leave within the hour," he said tersely.

Hayato bowed. "Yes, Hibari-sama."

* * *

**Yamamoto Household**

Once Kyoya made his presence known on Takeshi's compound, he was led to a large room where the party was being held. Almost instantly, Takeshi himself had slid the door open as if expecting Kyoya's arrival. The easy grin on his face was enough to worsen Kyoya's mood even more. The room's loud chatter, music, and bright lights made him feel a little nauseous and more than annoyed to just bite everyone to death.

"Hibari," Takeshi said, oblivious to the other man's mood, "come in! You're just in time!"

Ryohei's drunken laughter, along with several men in the room, proved otherwise. Kyoya pursed his lips, his hand already tightening around the hilt of his katana. His gray eyes glinted dangerously, but the ache of his wounds was just enough to keep him at bay—somewhat.

"We were waiting for you," Takeshi continued, leading him inside. "Come, we have a lot of food prepared."

Kyoya grudgingly followed him. Behind, the door slid shut. The floor was warm against his feet. His nose slightly crinkled from the strong smell of alcohol. Meat and various kinds of dishes were arranged on the long table, offering a colorful and welcoming display. Some men seemed to sober up once they saw Kyoya, but he didn't offer them any acknowledgement. It was natural for herbivores to cower under the presence of a carnivore. However, he wasn't in much of a mood to hunt tonight.

A few courtesans danced in the middle of the room, their colorful kimono and fans swaying to the beat of the drums. They faltered slightly in their steps when they saw Kyoya, but he just sat down beside Takeshi without a word. Normally, he would've beaten anyone in such an indecent profession but he was too tired. The herbivores were lucky tonight.

He looked anywhere but the people in the room. Distancing himself would be much less of a problem if he was alone and away from the crowding. Takeshi and Ryohei were just more insufferable if he avoided any more of their "get-togethers".

"Oh, Hibari!" Ryohei said, finally taking notice of him. "You came! How are you?"

Kyoya sipped a cup of tea already laid out for him, his nerves slowly relaxing from the calming beverage. He supposed that Takeshi had good tea. The other man had always been a good host, just like his late father, and got along well with anyone. Kyoya only agreed to their alliance because their fathers had been comrades on the battlefront and he respected Takeshi's swordsmanship. If Kyoya was less proud, he'd admit that Takeshi wielded the blade better than he did.

It was a pity that he had only saw him use it once, when they had clashed briefly in Kyoya's younger days, the time when war had loomed in the horizon and men were dropping to the ground like flies. Takeshi had thrown him off then, his easy grin turning sharper like the sword he held and his friendly eyes narrowing in monstrous concentration.

And just like that, as soon as they had collided, metal against metal, Takeshi pulled away and laughed breathlessly while sheathing his katana, a sign of surrender. Kyoya found it mocking and foolish, but only stood still with a nasty gash on his side and reeled from the conflicting nature the man showed. He had finally deemed Takeshi an herbivore when he later bared his throat and submitted to the Hibari Clan's rule.

"Sasagawa-sama," a soft voice said, "would you like some more sake?"

Kyoya turned his head imperceptibly to see a flash of brown and orange. His hand still cradled the small cup in his palm, the faint heat radiating through the thick ceramic. It was more a comfort than a nuisance.

"Ah, Sora, you know how to serve well," Ryohei said, extending his own empty cup. "I'm still skeptical how this is your first time."

Takeshi laughed. "Sasagawa-dono, you drank too much already. Why don't you drink some tea instead?"

"No sake is too much on such a joyous occasion, Yamamoto-sama," the newcomer said, as if the answer was waiting for the right moment to be spoken from the tip of his tongue.

Ryohei roared into laughter, forcing Kyoya to pick up his own cup from being knocked over. He scowled when the older man slapped the long table with a strong fist. "Takeshi," Ryohei said, "where did you find him?" He grinned at the smaller man. "I like you, Sora!"

"Ah, you are too kind, Sasagawa-sama." The figure was approaching Kyoya now. He didn't realize his body was too tense until the faint smell of camellia tickled his nose. His eyes looked up, but the young man still had his gaze on Ryohei. The man's loose kimono cascaded down fair shoulders, exposing his slender neck. "Please enjoy their dance as well. They are far more talented than I am. They've been practicing for weeks."

So, this get-together had been planned months beforehand. If Kyoya was a better man, he would've been flattered. But he wasn't, and this whole occasion was a waste of time. He'd rather be sleeping or training than be here.

Yamamoto chuckled. "You are too modest, Sora."

"As I should be, Yamamoto-sama."

The young man finally looked towards Kyoya, though only for a brief moment, a slip on the other's part, before lowering his eyes. His long lashes fluttered against smooth skin and his brown eyes were warm and meek. This man embodied the definition of an herbivore almost too perfectly—And it irritated Kyoya.

"Would you like some sake, Hibari-sama?" The man's voice was gentle without inflection.

Kyoya merely glanced at him from the corner of his eye before sipping more of his tea. A rude dismissal if anything, and yet, the man just smiled before moving onto Takeshi.

Even when the party was over and dawn approached shyly in the horizon, Kyoya and Sora were the only ones awake amongst the strewn men and courtesans. Ryohei was passed out on the table, his kimono tugged down to his arms, revealing a toned chest and stomach. Takeshi wasn't any better and had tried countless times to tug something down to cuddle with, which happened to be Kyoya.

He vaguely wondered why he hadn't left yet. Sora politely ignored his presence. The young man helped the women into better positions on the floor, mindful of the men around them. His feet were silent against the mat and he walked with a surprisingly elegant gait. Kyoya kicked Takeshi's groping hand away for the umpteenth time before standing up. Walking none-too-carefully around the sleeping men, he slid the door open to leave.

A quiet, hushed voice spoke behind him, making him pause. "Travel safely, Hibari-sama. Ah, and happy birthday."

Kyoya didn't need to look at the young man's face to see that he was smiling. A small tingle crawled unpleasantly up his spine. The only response he gave was a small exhale through his nose.

And with that he left, sliding the door quietly behind him.

* * *

**May 13, 1531 – Namimori, Japan: Hibari Household**

The birthday celebration was nothing but a fleeting memory in Kyoya's mind. There were other things to worry about, like killing Mukuro. His generals and advisers were assembled in the meeting room, but he paid no heed to what they were saying. He only ran these meetings to make the herbivores stop complaining about being useless to the Hibari name.

Hayato stood dutifully by his side, his face scrunched up in deep thought as everyone assessed the large map detailing the territories between Namimori and Kokuyo. Closing his eyes, Kyoya sipped his tea and drowned out their loud, irritating voices. His mind had finally achieved a temporary state of peace until someone said, "Well, of course! I have used this maneuver once when I fought against Hitsuji and his men in Midori. They stood no chance against us."

"And how did you even think of such a strategy?"

Kyoya opened his eyes then at the peculiar intonation of Hayato's voice. There was an undercurrent of curiosity and bewilderment in his tone that was unlike him. One of the generals—Watanabe—smiled a little sheepishly. "Ah well, I did not, Gokudera-san." The other generals just glanced at each other dubiously. Hayato merely quirked a brow in question and waited for the buff man to continue. "There is a young man I know—he is quite brilliant really—who told me about the tactic. I'm sure you know him, Hibari-sama. I heard he made an appearance at Yamamoto-sama's home a few weeks ago."

Kyoya turned his gaze to Watanabe, who tensed and bowed his head to look anywhere else but his cold eyes. "I do not."

"Who is this young man, Watanabe-san?" Hayato said, filling in the uneasy silence.

"Well, see, he is a _taikomochi_. His name is Sora."

Another bout of silence fell upon the room.

"You took counsel from a prostitute?" another general finally said, but there was more skepticism in his scratchy voice rather than disgust.

Watanabe rolled his eyes. "Must you be reminded what a _taikomochi_ is, Yoshida? He's not a prostitute, simply a male courtesan. I've seen you occasionally with some so don't try to make yourself out to be a hypocrite."

Yoshida had the decency to keep his mouth shut after that.

"It is not unusual to get counsel from a _taikomochi_," another general said. "But I will be honest—I didn't expect for _you_ to listen to anyone else other than your own blabbering, Watanabe."

Stifled chuckles rose in the air. Kyoya didn't acknowledge them. The nervous thrum that tingled in his body didn't deter the strange feeling in his chest. Why he remembered brown eyes and a slender neck was beyond him—it irked him. He abruptly stood up and left, silently dismissing the meeting with his parting.

Hayato caught up with him in his garden later, his lips set in thin line. Kyoya silently fed the birds from his hand, not looking up. Such fragile, innocent creatures. Their wings were powerful, giving them the gift of flight, and yet their brittle bones were easy to crush with one hand.

"Hibari-sama, y—"

"Find the herbivore."

Hayato paused. "Find _who_, Hibari-sama?"

Kyoya didn't know why he ordered it. Perhaps it was the idleness the past week or being fiercely isolated from battle by a much firmer Kusakabe. He clicked his tongue. Nonetheless, there was a nagging tug at the back of his head.

He refused to say it was because he was bewitched by those brown eyes.

* * *

**Namimori, Japan: Sumire District**

Hayato never knew a time when he was away from Kyoya's side. He had known the man's father before he died in battle and was always perplexed by how different the father and son were.

Jirou was the only one who had reached out to Hayato when he was a child, undeterred by his feral snarls and starving body. His hand had been warm when he pulled Hayato out of the gutter where his dead sister laid and eased him into a life of luxury he could only dream of. So, when he met the Kyoya's steely eyes, he hesitated.

Their relationship was difficult to place, even to Hayato. He wouldn't call it a friendship. Kyoya never let anyone too close, not even his own father. Perhaps it had something to do with his deceased mother, but Hayato never dared to ask again after Kyoya broke several of his ribs and a leg. So, like always, he was left to ponder and pick up the pieces himself, something he was good at, but had trouble with when it came to Kyoya.

Despite the mystery shrouding Kyoya's intimidating character, Hayato knew him best out of anyone, second to Kusakabe. The flaws in his character should've gotten him killed long ago—for such a difficult man, Kyoya had rather simplistic views of the world—but he was still alive and continued baring his fangs at anyone who dared to oppose him. Never had Hayato met such a fearless man in his life. Perhaps Mukuro. The man never wasted a moment in taunting Kyoya; he was either a masochist or suicidal. But even the strange daimyo seemed more human and softened by his sister's presence, something Mukuro would never admit out loud.

Kyoya proved to be more frustrating after telling Hayato to find Sora. He briefly wondered if that was even prostitute's real name, but didn't dwell on it too much. He was already exhibiting a headache.

It was just around the afternoon when he left to find the enigmatic _taikomochi_. He had asked General Watanabe prior on what he knew about the other. The information wasn't much, but it was enough for Hayato. A well-seasoned _taikomochi_ who had been in the business for a few years. Young, bright, kind—just about everything he was supposed to be as a male geisha.

Hayato asked around the seedier places in town, which were drastically reduced since Kyoya became the new daimyo of the Hibari Clan, but only received wary eyes and sharp dismissals. He expected as much. The people feared Kyoya as much as they hated him. Any ideas of a rebellion had been crushed when Kyoya confiscated the weaponry from the public. That was one of the very few advices he had followed from Hayato.

A weary sigh escaped his lips after he left another courtesan house. He clicked his tongue. How hard was it to find one person in small town like Namimori? Was Sora even a native? Probably not. Then again, Kyoya would get angry if he didn't bring him back. Hayato didn't even understand why he wanted to meet the _taikomochi_. It was definitely not for a romp in the sheets—Kyoya showed no interest towards men or women; some salacious rumors going around hinted that he might be doing it with animals instead, but Hayato had yet to see it and really didn't want to if it was true—and it was certainly not for some idle chat.

Hayato bit back another sigh while running a hand through his hair. The villagers all avoided him and it was pointless to ask any of them. They'd just keep their lips shut or slam the doors in his face. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't hear the creaking of a barrel and horse trots until it was too late.

"Hey!" a gruff voice shouted behind him.

Turning, Hayato scowled but froze when he saw a farmer and his horse hurtling towards him. He barely had the time to move when a hand gripped his arm and pulled. He yelped at the unexpected motion, smacking against another body. He groaned from the ground's impact, his head dizzy. A gasp came from the person beneath him, making him tense and look down. Two brown eyes looked back at him. Hayato's breath hitched at the worry marring the other man's features.

"Are you alright, sir?" the man said. "Did you break anything?"

Hayato rolled his eyes. "I should be asking _you_ that." He stood up carefully, aware of the curious eyes on them. "Why did you do that?"

The man frowned but accepted Hayato's helping hand nonetheless. His hand was warm against Hayato's. Unexpectedly, a spike of fear struck his chest. The man's fingers were fragile and light on his palm, and he had a thought that he'd somehow crush them. He barely contained his frown when the other's hand pulled away from his.

"You were about to get hit. No one was telling you to move, too." Hayato only stared when the young man huffed. Kami, everything about him was just _small_. Even his orange kimono looked a little big on his slim frame. Hayato wondered if he was really a man. "How cruel of them. You could've been killed."

"But it was me."

The man looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

Hayato frowned. "Do you not know who I am?"

He felt a little self-conscious when the man looked him up and down, studying him in confusion. Finally, the other's gaze settled on the Hibari symbol on his red kimono. His lips parted a bit as his eyes lighted in recognition. "So, you are from the Hibari Clan?"

Hayato's face adopted a blank mask, and he braced himself for the repulsion for his association. "Yes."

To his shock, the young man just tilted his head. "I still do not understand."

Hayato's brows furrowed. "Usually others would run away by now."

"Ah." The unexpected sympathy in the man's eyes made Hayato uneasy on his feet. "Well, I would've still saved you regardless."

Hayato's heart stuttered for a second when a gentle smile curled on the other's pale lips. He could only stare in disbelief at the man, wondering if he was actually from here.

"Why?"

The question slipped without him thinking. He flinched, waiting for blows that never came. It was always his inquisitive nature that ignited Kyoya's wrath, something he still couldn't let go. The automatic response was a reflex at this point. It did nothing to lessen the pain but it readied him for whatever Kyoya gave him. This time, all he got was a sweet laugh and mirthful eyes.

"Why? Did you not want to be?"

For a moment, Hayato remembered Jirou and his kindness, the father he never thought he'd have in his abysmal life; now that same kindness seemed to radiate from the young man in front of him.

"I am Gokudera Hayato."

The man looked surprised, not at the name, but at the introduction. Still, he responded with a small bow that had Hayato reeling. No one ever bowed to him before aside from the servants in the compound. Not even the generals or Kusakabe would spare him the same courtesy. "You can call me Sora."

It was Hayato's turn to be shocked. Still, the other man smiled so kindly, so sweetly, that he found himself hesitating, just like when he had first met Kyoya. This man was a _taikomochi_; it was his job to please and satisfy customers. Hayato wasn't sure if that extended to strangers, but he held onto the thought like a lifeline.

It was probably stupid of him to think that Sora's kindness was from his own character, but Hayato always had a penchant for lofty ideals.

And just like that, he was easily ensnared by the other man's smile.

* * *

**Namimori, Japan: Hibari Household**

Kyoya was alone when Hayato knocked on his door and announced Sora's presence. The man sat comfortably by his small tea table, his futon folded neatly in the corner of his room. He was most content in his chambers, where no one would bother or approach him without good reason. Yet no reason was ever good enough if it disturbed Kyoya's peace.

The door slid open, and Hayato and the _taikomochi_ stepped inside. Hayato stared at him with a strange boldness that caught Kyoya slightly off-guard, but he held onto his stoic gaze and merely looked back with the same intensity. That made Hayato slightly falter.

"Hibari-sama, Sora-san is here," Hayato said. "Is there anything else I can get you?"

"Leave."

Hayato pursed his lips but didn't protest. He glanced at Sora, who smiled at him comfortingly, then left, closing the door behind him. A beat of silence passed. Sora did not stand stiffly at the entrance; he was empty of tension compared to Kyoya's who was reminded daily of his sore wounds. Still, he doubted that it because of his wounds. He picked up the brass teapot and refilled his cup, his grip steady. The hushed trickling of liquid was quietly received by the silence.

"You called for me, Hibari-sama."

Again, that soft voice that seemed to plague Kyoya's mind made its appearance. He didn't ask any questions either. There was no curiosity. It was odd, but it did nothing to grate on Kyoya's nerves strangely enough. The herbivore had yet to do anything that set him off. Gently, Kyoya blew on his cup, the soft heat tickling his lips. "Sit."

Sora bowed, then moved forward with the same grace he had when they first met. His orange kimono sagged slightly from his shoulders. His eyes were still the same—kind, brown, and meek. Everything about him just screamed herbivore, and yet, there was a tautness in his lithe frame that made Kyoya briefly reconsider. His back was straight and there was no hesitance in his movements. Everything was done with purpose. It might've impressed Kyoya if the man didn't look so inconspicuous.

No, in his mind, Sora was an herbivore, just like the rest of the pathetic herd.

Kyoya couldn't comprehend the frustration clutching his mind, but he shoved it down when Sora sat across from him, his eyes still downcast and resting on his hands. Kyoya sipped his tea and placed the cup on the table, the light _clink_ cutting through the silence. "What is your name, herbivore?"

Sora looked up then, though cautiously. His lips twitched into a small smile; it never really formed right. "My name is Sora."

Kyoya pursed his lips. "Your real name."

The smile came then, with a twinge of mirth. It irked Kyoya to no end. "But Sora is m—"

"No, it's not."

The smile never disappeared, and Kyoya was overcome with the urge to tear it off his face with the knife he hid under his sleeves.

"I apologize, Hibari-sama, but you called for Sora."

Kyoya scowled. He wasn't in the mood for playful tricks or double meanings. It reminded him of Mukuro. His hand tightened around his cup, the ceramic burning against his palm. Sora glanced at it with a frown but didn't point it out. "Why did y—"

Kyoya cut him off with a glare, slightly satisfied when Sora quickly shut up. Still, the frustration worming through his brain was still unsettling. "Entertain me."

The command was unexpected, but Kyoya didn't linger on it for long. He _was_ rather bored, and if this herbivore couldn't do what his job entailed, then this was a waste of time. Sora blinked, then composed himself swiftly. His lips pursed together in thought before curing into a small grin. "Would you like to hear a story, Hibari-sama?"

Kyoya scowled. "I said to entertain me."

If the skepticism somehow made itself known in Kyoya's tense voice, Sora ignored it with grace. Chuckling, he spoke like he was talking to a child. "Yes, well, I promise that this story will _entertain_ you. Unless you have anything else more specific in mind."

Kyoya clicked his tongue, his mood souring when nothing he did intimidate the herbivore. Sora's face remained pleasant and open.

_How foolish,_ Kyoya thought.

"Have you ever heard of stories about the _yokai_ that live in Namimori, Hibari-sama?"

Kyoya's hands tensed with the urge to beat something, his knuckles going white. "What _yokai_?"

Sora blinked a couple of times before laughing. It sounded like the fluttering of wings, breathless, light, and so fragile. And yet, he did not keel over and break. He sat there with shoulders shaking and his hand covering his mouth. Kyoya did not understand this bizarre creature.

"Hibari-sama," Sora finally said, "there are no _actual_ _yokai_ that live in Namimori." His eyes glinted mischievously, like Mukuro, but it wasn't cruel or mocking. It was innocent and so child-like that Kyoya wasn't sure how to take it. "Well, it's not really farfetched. Perhaps they do live here, perhaps not. It depends if you believe them. They say that the more you believe in something, the more tangible it becomes." Sora tilted his head, showing a part of his neck. "Do you believe in _yokai_, Hibari-sama?"

Kyoya's jaw clenched involuntarily. His teeth ached from the tension. "I asked to be entertained."

Sora smiled, all soft edges and no sharp curves. "Of course. I apologize."

Grunting, Kyoya drank some more tea to calm his nerves. He then waited as Sora took in a small breath and exhaled slowly.

"There was a young girl who lived here centuries ago," Sora said, his voice taking a much soothing tone. "She was born with the whitest skin and blackest hair; so fine they were, no other woman could compare to her beauty. Even when she roamed the streets, others would always offer her a smile, showering her with gifts and lovely praises. Still, she was lonely. Being surrounded by a sea of people never quelled the ache in her heart when she had no one to call as a friend."

Pithily, those words were piercing in their structured beauty, and Kyoya gripped his cup even harder to stop his hand from shaking. He wanted Sora to keep quiet, to stop talking, but he was already enraptured by the other's man tale. He didn't know if it was because of the doleful tale or the way Sora spoke. There was something mystical about him Kyoya couldn't place.

Sora's voice softened then, almost lyrical to Kyoya's ears. "So she ran—she ran away far into the mountains for she was also just as foolish as she was beautiful. There, she found an even emptier place than her home. There were no people to greet her, no mother to braid her hair, no father to keep her warm—just her and the quiet trees and soil where no living creatures dared to disturb her. The girl's absence was noticed immediately, and with winter coming, her father sent swarms of men into the mountains before the first snow fell."

A small hush fell in the room. Aside from the chirping of birds and steady breaths from the two men, the silence remained delicately on edge. Kyoya could envision it—the girl running blind into the mountains with her long hair trailing behind her, her skin pale under the sunlight, the alps tall and looming over Namimori as winter slowly approached.

He blinked, but the images blurred in his own direct line of vision, as if he was physically there watching the girl run away. Never had he conjured such vivid images in his mind. He wasn't exactly the imaginative type. Eventually, he grew impatient when Sora didn't continue. The other man was watching him with a thoughtful eye, but it wasn't invasive or intruding—just pensive, as if he was thinking of something else, not Kyoya.

Before Kyoya could speak, Sora continued as if the silence never held them, easily returning to the flow of his tale. "When the first snow fell, the men continued searching the mountains and calling out the girl's name, but there was no answer or sighting of her anywhere. Eventually, the number of men dwindled until no one else had the will to venture in the cold mountains again. Soon the girl became forgotten by everyone but one—the servant that served her family. He had been with them for many years and helped raised her since she was a baby. When everyone else gave up, he took it upon himself to find the sweet girl he grew fond of. So one evening, he put on his warmest, thickest clothes and trekked up the mountains, winter or not.

"The servant didn't know how much time he spent climbing through the thick snow, but he did not, _would not_, rest until he found the girl; for he thought that every minute he'd stop to catch his breath would be just another minute prolonging the girl's terror in the mountains. He'd scream her name endlessly until his voice grew hoarse and all he could do was whisper her name. Soon, he saw a figure in the distance, sitting on a small rock. His pace grew faster and he saw the familiar trail of black hair and white skin—finally, he found the young mistress!

"Even then, she did not turn to face him until he called out to her one more time. When she did, she did not move from her spot. The servant told her to wait there until he came to her side. Her hair was blacker than he remembered and her skin was whiter than the snow. Still, that did not deter him because he was very happy to find her. When he approached, he gave her his cloak but her skin was still cold and she never moved from her spot. She only asked why he arrived.

"Bewildered, the servant told her that everyone missed her at home and tried to coax her to return with him; however, the girl refused for she was waiting for someone. Unknown to the servant, the girl did not recognize him for death had already chipped away her memories of the living. Nonetheless, he persisted, so the girl asked if he would stay with her and keep her company in the cold. The servant did not hesitate to sit down beside her. He did not question how cold her hand was nor did he question the tattered white kimono she wore.

"Soon he eventually froze to death, but his hand still did not let go of the girl's. She disappeared before spring came, and no one looked for them after winter passed. Some say you can see the remains of the servant in the mountains, holding onto the small rock; others say you can find the young girl in the same spot but warn to never approach her for she was now the Yuki Onna; and all who encounter her will suffer the same fate."

Slowly, Sora closed his eyes as he exhaled. His shoulders sagged before his eyes fluttered open again. He looked almost refreshed, as if he had taken a long dip in the sauna. There was a sense of calm about him that even eased some of the tension in Kyoya's shoulders. His hand had let go of his cup long before the tale ended, his palm cool.

Kyoya spoke up before he could stop himself. "That servant was a foolish herbivore."

Sora's lips twitched a little, unable to decide whether to frown or smile. "May I ask why, Hibari-sama? I think it's rather sweet."

Kyoya scowled. Of course, this herbivore would find it sentimental. Herbivores flocked together for emotional codependence that only hindered their evolution in the wild. It was why they were hunted and trampled upon by the carnivores—they were weak and fragile, which only made them more deserving to be at the bottom of the food chain. "He did not have to save the girl," he said. "He could have lived."

"But he wanted to," Sora said, as if talking to a child. "And yes, I suppose he could have lived, but"—he met Kyoya's gaze—"would it have been better if he lived knowing that he could've done something but did not do anything about it? I see it as a matter of love, don't you, Hibari-sama?"

Kyoya scowled. "I do not understand. If the girl herbivore hadn't ran away, then the servant could have lived."

Sora smiled then, but it was thin, and didn't reach his eyes. "You cannot blame the victims for what they did. That is cruel, even for someone like you."

A growl slipped through Kyoya's lips. "Know your place, herbivore."

Sora bowed his head. "I apologize, Hibari-sama. That was very thoughtless of me."

Kyoya just clicked his tongue. He looked away to gaze out into the garden. His silence again was used as a dismissal. Sora stood up soundlessly and bowed again. "I am honored to have been in your company, Hibari-sama. I hope you enjoy the rest of your day."

After Hayato escorted Sora out, Kyoya did not leave his room for the rest of the day. His mind was plagued with the images of snow, black hair, and a cold hand in another's. He did not see Sora for another month.

* * *

**June 5, 1531: Namimori, Japan: Hibari Household**

Kyoya ignored Hayato's scoff from the sidelines when the spar started and completely disregarded Takeshi lounging on the _engawa_. His muscles protested against Ryohei's punches and kicks, even if they were held back, which only pushed Kyoya to lash out even more.

He soon took advantage of Ryohei's small slip, hooking his foot around the other's ankle and bringing him to the ground. He twisted his wooden katana and brought it down harshly against Ryohei's sweaty neck, eliciting a throaty groan and laughter.

The older man grinned. "That was good, Hibari!"

Kyoya roughly released the man. "You're not trying today, herbivore."

At least Ryohei had the decency to look ashamed. "I'm not holding back. Just haven't been feeling well for the past few days."

Always prepared to lighten the mood, even Takeshi's smile waned a bit. "Have you seen a doctor?"

Ryohei waved him off. "Hana made sure I did. I'll be fine. Just some rest and medicine will do."

"And yet, you are here, Sasagawa-dono," Hayato said dryly.

Takeshi laughed. "Let the man live, Gokudera! If Ryohei-san says he's fine, then he's fine."

The other man scowled at him, though kept his mouth shut. Those two always seemed to pick an argument with each other; well, more on Hayato's end. Takeshi would take the other's insults with an easy laugh, unoffended.

Kyoya grabbed the wet cloth Hayato handed him and wiped away the sweat from his brow. The sun was merciless today as the summer heat was starting to kick in. Kyoya never liked this season—it gave birth to that herbivore Mukuro—and preferred spring when the cherry blossoms were in bloom.

"Why don't we go inside and cool off with some _mugicha_?" Takeshi said, snapping his fan close. "You don't mind right, Hibari?"

Kyoya just entered one of the rooms and closed the door behind him. Takeshi chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes."

After the servants brought in the _mugachi_, Kyoya kept his distance from the other men. His brow twitched when Takeshi and Ryohei laughed from some inane joke. Hayato looked just as irritated, but Kyoya made him stay only to make him suffer with him. He blamed the heat for his pettiness.

Still, the cool tea was refreshing and Kyoya felt a bit better after drinking it. It would've been much better if the herbivores hadn't invited themselves in.

"Ah, why don't you invite Sora here?" Ryohei said. "It's been a while since I've seen him. I actually find myself missing some of his stories."

Hayato raised a brow. "I didn't peg you for listening to stories, Sasagawa-dono."

Ryohei grinned, oblivious to the subtle jab. "Not unless they're from Sora. He's talented, and Kyoko and Hana like him, too. I invited him when we celebrated Hideo's birthday a month ago and they loved him."

Hayato sighed. "Only you would celebrate a servant's birthday. That does not bode well to the other warlords' eyes, Sasagawa-dono."

Takeshi laughed. "I think it's very nice of him. Hideo is what, fifteen years of age now?"

Ryohei nodded. "Yes. He's been adjusting well in our home since we found him. Kyoko thinks of him fondly like a little brother."

"Well, if Hibari allows it, I could send out one of my servants to find Sora." Takeshi smiled brightly. "What do you say, Hibari?"

Kyoya didn't offer him a response. He wasn't sure if he wanted to see Sora again. That tale about the Yuki Onna still irritated him, even when he _wasn't_ thinking about it. Not even that, the herbivore's voice managed to seep through the cracks of his mind, reminding him of the garden birds' sweet trills. It was welcoming and unwelcoming at the same time.

"You seem close to Sora, Takeshi," Ryohei said.

Takeshi blinked. "Really? I only met him a couple of months ago. Enma recommended him and I invited him on my birthday." He shrugged. "Sora tells really fun stories and he's smart, too. I think you'll like him, Gokudera. He knows a lot of things."

Hayato frowned. "You're rather simple-minded, Yamamoto-dono. Anything can catch your fancy easily. You should spare yourself the complicated thoughts."

Takeshi grinned, his laugh still rich and happy. "I know. I was never a good student before either, but Sora makes it sound easy and fun!"

Ryohei exclaimed enthusiastically. "Let's invite him over then!"

"If Hibari-sama allows it," Hayato said tersely. "Don't forget that this is his home."

Kyoya peered at the waiting men over his cup, their eyes bright and eager. Hayato kept his gaze downcast, but his anticipation was poorly-hidden. Finally, Kyoya waved his hand dismissively as he sipped more of his cold beverage. If the herbivores would shut up, then he would let them do as they pleased. They were, at least, smart enough to leave him be when needed.

He sighed when the men, excluding Hayato, cheered.

It took a while for Takeshi's servant to fetch Sora, but the other men didn't mind. By the time he arrived, they were fairly relaxed and chatting amicably, excluding Hayato who only argued with Takeshi. Kyoya seriously wondered how he was saddled with these idiotic herbivores.

"Yamamoto-sama, Sora-san is here," the servant said from outside the door.

The door slid open and Sora walked inside with a bow. Kyoya blinked at the garb he wore—a light, summer kimono colored a beautiful shade of sunset orange. It strangely brought out the brown in his eyes and meshed well with his light skin.

Sora smiled at the men. "Good afternoon, Yamamoto-sama, Sasagawa-sama, Hibari-sama, Gokudera-sama." Speaking each man's name, he bowed towards them respectively.

With a blush, Hayato shook his head. "Oh no, you don't have to call me that, Sora. I'm just Hibari-sama's adviser."

Sora smiled kindly. "And I am here to entertain my customers, no?"

Ryohei laughed. "I missed you, Sora. Even Hana misses your wit."

"You humble me, Sasagawa-sama. It would be an honor to meet Kurokawa-sama again, and Kyoko-san, too."

"Now, don't go stealing my sister's heart." Though Ryohei sounded more teasing than serious. "She's still too young to think about marriage."

"She is nineteen years of age, Sasagawa-dono," Hayato said. "That's already too late for her to get married."

Ryohei grinned. "That's even better."

Takeshi laughed. "Well, I'm sure Kyoko-chan can find someone suitable soon. There are plenty of good men in Namimori." He glanced amusedly at Kyoya. "Even Hibari isn't a bad choice."

Kyoya glared at him. "I am not interested."

"Not interested in marriage or in Kyoko-chan?" Takeshi said teasingly. "Come on, Hibari. She's a sweet and pretty girl."

"I'm right here, Takeshi," Ryohei said. "And if anyone asks for Kyoko's hand in marriage, they have to go through me first."

"Don't you mean Hana?"

Ryohei shuddered. "Right. Hana, then me." He pointed at Kyoya and Takeshi. "So don't go and have any strange thoughts about my sister, alright? I'll know!"

"Maa, maa, I was only joking. I have no interest in Kyoko-chan."

Kyoya clicked his tongue. "I'm interested in neither, herbivore."

Ryohei nodded. "That's good to hear." He gestured Sora to come forward. "Sora, come sit. We were wondering if you could tell us another one of your tales."

Sora smiled as he knelt down in front of the men. "Well, of course. Is there something specific you would like to hear?"

"Surprise us!" Takeshi said. "We'll love anything you tell."

Kyoya shifted in his seat, eyeing the brunet warily. He had never gotten over the Yuki Onna story, and was already thinking that this was a terrible idea. Sora briefly met his eyes, smiling reassuringly as if he could read his thoughts.

"Well, I suppose," Sora said, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Ah!"

He then took a deep breath and exhaled, just like he did last time. When Sora opened his eyes, Kyoya blinked, slightly startled at the sudden golden hue they took. It must be the light, he thought when they returned back to their original hue. "This is one my favorites. I do hope you like it. I think it's rather wonderful."

The men waited with bated breath before Sora spoke again. Even Kyoya found himself leaning forward to hear what the herbivore had to say.

"In Namimori, many years ago, a young couple gave birth to a little boy named Iwao. He was a bright and happy child who the villagers loved dearly. Every day, he'd walk around the streets to talk to the others. They would smile and entertain his questions as long as they could before continuing their day, never minding about giving him their time. He had many friends who enjoyed playing with him since he was just as fun as he was welcoming.

"Soon, the town experienced a terrible drought. With no rain, the farmers' crops could not grow. The people grew hungrier day by day while the farmers prayed to the gods. Iwao, who could not bear to see the people suffer any longer, ventured out to the forest temples to pray for the gods' mercy. However, on his way there, he saw a pretty woman walking over the bridge. She wore a lovely white kimono and held a large umbrella over her head. Iwao was curious about this woman so he boldly approached her on her path.

"He asked her who she was and why she held an umbrella when it wasn't raining. The woman only walked past him, quiet and in a daze. This didn't deter Iwao, so he asked again. It was then he realized that she was soaked to the bone and there were tears pouring endlessly down her pale cheeks. He asked why she was crying. The woman finally turned to him and said she was bringing rain to his people so the crops could grow again. She spoke so quietly that the boy had to cup his ears to hear what she said.

"Still, rather than rejoice at the idea of rain finally blessing his town, Iwao asked again why she was crying. The woman was puzzled by the question—all her eternal life, she was never asked to speak about her troubles. She only came and left quietly with the rain that followed her. But she did so anyway to quell the boy's curiosity. She said that in order for it to rain, she must continue to weep. The life she led was one of eternal sorrow and she could never be happy. Iwao, moved by the woman's loneliness, asked if he could walk with her back to his town. The woman was so touched by the boy's kindness that she wept even more, but not out of sadness, but of happiness.

"After blessing the fields with rain, the woman returned the way she came. Iwao walked with her the whole way and thanked her for bringing rain to his people's crops. The woman gave him a small trinket, instructing him to use it if he ever needed her again. He promised that he would and wished her to be happy on her endless journey. With that, she parted ways with the sweet boy, weeping happy tears and bringing rain with her to the next town."

A hush fell over the room. Sora stayed quiet, his smile serene as he waited for the men to respond. Kyoya found himself staring at the other man, unable to tear his eyes away from Sora's face. While he spoke his tale, Sora had never looked so docile or open. There was an innocent air about him despite the heavy words spilling effortlessly from his tongue.

And that was when Kyoya saw him for the little animal that he was, something to be coddled and protected from the horrors of the world. That innocence that he had lost in his youth still lived in Sora and he found himself vowing to protect it. Takeshi gave him a knowing smile, but Kyoya didn't acknowledge it. He kept his gaze locked on Sora when he told more tales at Ryohei's request. Even Hayato shyly asked for another one.

When evening came, Kyoya basked in the sound of cicadas, laughter, and the sound of Sora's voice.

* * *

**June 9, 1531: Namimori, Japan: Asagao District**

Kyoya was in an even worse mood than usual. This time, Hayato had steered clear of the furious man and ordered the servants to stay away from his personal chambers. They didn't need to be told twice.

There was another skirmish that morning, but this time, it was Mukuro who had attacked first. This already rose Hayato's suspicions since the other man always waited for Kyoya to make the first move, and he had a feeling that the other man had something planned under his sleeve. He just didn't know what and that irritated him to no end. Kyoya never told him what happened on the battlefields. He looked far worse than his previous battles and even walked with a small limp that he tried to hide.

So Hayato took it upon himself to scout the soldiers that Kyoya took that day and ask what happened. It was his job to make sure Kyoya didn't do anything stupid or get himself killed, even if he rarely listened to him—it was a promise he made to the man's father, and he planned to keep it in repayment for the man's kindness.

Most of the soldiers he asked couldn't give him the answers he was looking for, but they did say that they had never seen Kyoya so livid before. Sure, he lost his temper frequently with Mukuro but this was something else. He had become a monster on the battlefield, a raging beast, and nearly killed Mukuro if the other man hadn't escaped like he usually did. No one knew why.

Sighing deeply, Hayato ran a hand through his hair. The heat was insufferable today. There were only a few more soldiers to meet and he was determined to get to them all. He refused to admit that it was just another way to avoid Kyoya. When he announced his presence in another home, the door slid open to reveal a bandaged man. He nodded at Hayato in greeting. "Gokudera-san."

"Mochida-san," Hayato said, "I'm assuming you know why I'm here."

The soldier scoffed, then winced when he shifted. His side was heavily bandaged and his left ankle was swollen.

"Dear, who is that?" his wife said, poking her head out from their bedroom. "Ah, Gokudera-san, good afternoon."

Hayato nodded in greeting. "I just need to talk to your husband for a little bit."

"Is Satoshi with you?" Mochida said.

His wife nodded. "He's taking a nap. Would you like anything to drink, Gokudera-san? Water perhaps?"

Hayato shook his head. "No, I'm fine. Thank you though."

She nodded and shuffled back inside the room, closing the door. Mochida sighed wearily. "I'm only assuming that you heard of what happened today."

Hayato nodded. "I was hoping to find out what happened to Hibari-sama today."

Mochida grimaced. "I only got bits and pieces of what happened."

"Anything will be helpful."

The soldier looked away for a moment, his eyes distant and thoughtful. "I'm not quite sure if what I heard was accurate. I was fighting off another one of Rokudo's men nearby when I saw Hibari-sama…" He shuddered. "I've neverseen Hibari-sama so furious. Rokudo—he was an absolute _madman_. All he did was laugh while they fought." Mochida tenderly touched his wound. "I got this from Rokudo. Hibari-sama slipped and I managed to get to him in time." His brows furrowed. "Their conversation was strange. They had mentioned something about keeping the sky to themselves, but I am not sure if it's a metaphor. I didn't recognize the saying."

Hayato paled. "Sky…?"

His voice cracked a bit, catching Mochida's attention. The other man frowned in concern. "Are you alright? Does that mean anything to you, Gokudera-san?"

Hayato pursed his lips, cursing the summer heat again. He bowed towards Mochida. "Thank you. You've been a great help. I hope you recover well soon. Please, let me know if there is anything else you need."

Ignoring the man's confused look, Hayato left the soldier's compound. His nails dug into his sweaty palms as his breath hitched. His mind was reeling and he couldn't keep his thoughts together. Sky—Sora. There was no other meaning. He licked his chapped lips. Damn it, he should've seen this coming; but then again, he had let his own emotions override his rationale. He flinched when he saw a familiar shade of orange at the corner of his eye. Before he knew it, his legs were already moving on their own.

"So—"

He froze.

"—ke sure that he doesn't move around too much," the familiar voice said quietly.

The man Sora was talking to nodded solemnly. Hayato recognized him from his short black hair and green kimono—Kakimoto Chikusa, one of Mukuro's most trusted advisers and generals. What was he doing here in Namimori?

"He will be in good hands," the man said. "There is nothing to worry about."

Sora nodded, though he still looked worried. "Thank you, Kakimoto-san. And please, tell Nagi that I appreciate the kimono she made for me."

Chikusa's pale lips twitched in a slight smile. "Of course. I'm sure she'd be delighted. Travel safely."

"You too."

Once the man left, Sora turned to leave, but Hayato was already three steps ahead. He grabbed Sora's arm and tugged him harshly to face him. Sora widened his eyes. "G—Gokudera-san!"

"What are you _doing_?" Hayato hissed. "Why were you talking with that man?"

"You're hurting me!"

Hayato flinched. His hand was wrapped tightly around Sora's arm, his knuckles white from his grip. He let go as if he was burned. "I—I'm sorry. I didn't—"

Trembling, Sora brushed his sleeve to smooth out the light fabric. "He was only a customer, Gokudera-san."

Hayato frowned. "He works for Rokudo Mukuro. That man is dangerous. I don't know why he's here but—"

Sora huffed. "Kakimoto-san only escorts me this far to make sure I'm safe. He knows what will happen if he ventures any further. I have served Mukuro-sama many times before. This isn't anything different."

Those words made Hayato tense. Again and again, they circled around his head and he could barely grasp their meaning. He mentally cursed. Why did he think any different? Sora was a _taikomochi_. It wasn't like he belonged to anyone—he was a free man to go where he pleased. Hayato had no right to lash out like he did.

"I…I am sorry, Sora," he said tightly. "I didn't mean it. Please forgive me…"

Sora's face softened. Hayato stiffened when Sora placed a hand almost tenderly on his cheek. He found himself leaning into the warm touch. "It's alright, Gokudera-san. I understand. But Kakimoto-san isn't stupid. He drops me off here and leaves immediately for Kokuyo." He smiled. "No detours."

Hayato clutched the other's hand firmly. "Still, Rokudo is dangerous. He could hurt you."

Sora laughed, and Hayato found it the most beautiful sound he ever heard. "Ah well, he can't do much at the moment even if he tried. He's very hurt."

Hayato sighed. "Please promise me that you won't go to him ever again. He's a man that cannot be trusted, no matter what he says. They're all lies."

Sora smiled lightly. "I can't promise that, Gokudera-san. Don't worry. I can take care of myself just fine. I'm alive so far, aren't I?"

"That…doesn't make me feel any better."

Sora laughed, his cheeks dusted with a pretty shade of red. Whether it was from the heat, Hayato couldn't tell; still, he wished that moments like these would come by more frequently in his meaningless life. When he returned to Kyoya's home, he was quickly ushered to the meeting room where all the generals were assembled, their faces grave.

Kyoya didn't ask where he went. Hayato doubted he even cared. Still, he was startled when Kyoya looked at him blankly, his countenance devoid of hostility. There was fire burning behind those cold gray eyes. "W—Why are we all gathered here, generals?" he managed to say, shivers crawling up his spine.

Kyoya glowered, making everyone flinch. "We will invade that herbivore's house—_tonight_."

* * *

**Kokuyo, Japan: Rokudo Household**

"His adviser saw us, Rokudo-sama. I apologize for not being as discreet."

A bandaged hand waved lazily in the air. "There's no need to worry, Chikusa-kun. That actually was perfect for my dear Sora."

Chikusa furrowed his brows, obviously confused. "I…see."

The other man chuckled, sitting up straighter from his cushion despite his injuries. Heavy bandages wrapped around his entire upper body, though he barely winced from the movement. Frowning, Nagi reached out to help her brother sit more comfortably and not agitate his wounds. "Onii-san, the doctor said you should rest," she said.

"Ah, how kind of you, Nagi. But I am fine, really." Mukuro took her smaller hands into his. "This is nothing."

Nagi sighed but didn't push any further, knowing how awfully stubborn her brother could be. So she just patted his hands before resuming her needlework again.

"Either way, since that dog of his saw you, it will only be a matter of time before the skylark makes his move."

Chikusa and Nagi tensed. Her hands still went through the motions though, sewing the red kimono on her lap. It was the only way to keep her hands from trembling and her mind focused on more pleasant things.

"I—I should have been more careful, Rokudo-sama," Chikusa said. "But Sora insisted on having me drop him in one of the closer districts in Namimori."

Mukuro smiled. "And I will say it again, Chikusa-kun, you did fine."

"What are you planning, Onii-san?" Nagi said, her brows furrowed. "Please don't involve Sora in your schemes. He does not deserve to be used for something so…cruel."

She may be weak in both mind and body—her childhood illness had taken a much worse toll than the doctors had expected, taking her right eye and most of her energy—and less devious than her brother, but she had always cherished Sora as a dear friend and would do anything to keep him away from her brother's plans. Having witnessed many of Mukuro's schemes, Nagi refused to see them reach someone as kind as Sora.

Mukuro chuckled. "Ah, dear Nagi, I have nothing planned at all. It seems like Sora has something up his sleeve." Nagi blinked. "I'm not sure what he has in mind, but I'm interested in seeing it unfold."

Nagi chewed on her lower lip. That…was not she expected. Sora was a sweet man who told the most delightful stories, even advising Mukuro and his generals when they asked for his input. He was brilliant as much as he was kind. For him to be planning something devious was unlike him; however, it must have its purpose if he was resorting to such drastic measures. She could only pray that he remained safe.

The doors flung open and Ken barged in the room, startling Nagi. "Rokudo-sama, there are reports of Hibari's men coming in from the west!"

Chikusa widened his eyes and stood up in attention. Nagi gasped. A needle pricked her finger, and a droplet of blood oozed from the wound. Before she could process what was happening, Mukuro had already grabbed her and pushed her towards Chikusa. "Take Nagi to one of the safe houses in Momo," Mukuro said. "Send for the generals and make sure our perimeters are secured. The skylark will most definitely come here."

"Onii-san!" Nagi gasped.

Mukuro smiled, his eyes gentle just for her. "Don't worry, Nagi. Don't you have any faith in your brother? I will see you there."

Nagi could barely get a word out when Chikusa dragged her out of the room. Her feet stumbled on the wooden floor countless times, but the other man never failed to stand her upright again. Gaping, she looked around frantically as servants and soldiers dashed around the usually quiet house. So quickly, everything fell apart. In the distance, she could hear war cries and galloping horses.

"You will be safe with me, Nagi-san," Chikusa said. "There is a horse ready for you in the back."

"What about my brother?" Nagi said.

"He will be f—"

Nagi screamed when Chikusa slumped on the ground, choking on his own blood. A long, deep gash tore through his back. Stumbling backwards, Nagi looked up when she met cold gray eyes. Her breath hitched and she could do nothing when a blade slashed her neck.

* * *

**August 28, 1531: Namimori, Japan: Hibari Household**

"There are still no sightings of Rokudo so far, Hibari-sama," Watanabe said. "None of his men remain in Kokuyo either. I believe it is safe to say he won't be bothering us any time soon."

"Don't underestimate that man," Ito said. "Before you know it, he'll rise from the dead and drag us all down with him."

"I won't be surprised if he is still mourning his sister," Nakajima said, sipping some _mugicha_. "They were very close, weren't they?" He glanced at the silent Kyoya. "Again, it was a rather brilliant change in tactics, Hibari-sama. We managed to divert Rokudo's attention and strike in for the kill. Now, he has no choice but to hide and lick his wounds. Pity we couldn't actually capture the man, but he's proven to be quite slippery."

"Other than that, I believe we gained the greater benefit," Hayato said. "Kokuyo is under our rule. It will help expand Namimori and establish a broader network of trade with other cities."

Watanabe laughed. "Well, why not all of Japan while we're at it? Surely you must feel more ambitious than that!"

Kyoya clicked his tongue, making everyone tense. "Namimori is mine and mine alone and that is enough, herbivore. Don't speak about such foolish ideals."

Watanabe bowed. "I apologize, Hibari-sama."

Kyoya stood up and left the room, effectively dismissing the meeting. He ignored the men's quiet farewells as he walked down the empty hallways. When Hayato reached him, he said, "Do not disturb me."

His adviser bowed. "Yes, Hibari-sama."

* * *

**Kokuyo, Japan: Momo District**

For days, they hid, and for days, Mukuro was left to ponder in the shadows of his room. His wounds were almost all healed, but he did not step out of his safe house. He was in no condition to fight against Kyoya and his men when his own were all nearly slaughtered. For once, his mind did not think as he wished. The cogs had halted with sign of cobwebs.

"Rokudo-sama, Sora is here," Ken's quiet voice spoke through the door.

"Send him in and leave us be," Mukuro said.

When Sora walked inside with his head bowed, Mukuro quelled the urge to slit his throat right then and there. He found it admirable of himself, considering the circumstances nowadays. He silently watched Sora sit down across from him. He wore a dark brown kimono today instead of the usual orange. Neither of them spoke.

Mukuro reached for a spare cup and poured some tea inside. "Tea?"

Sora glanced at his cup then at Mukuro's, which was already empty. "Would you like for me to pour your cup as well, Rokudo-sama?"

His voice was soft yet still firm. Mukuro turned the kettle around for Sora to take hold. He didn't take his eyes off of the younger man's face. It was politely blank, irking Mukuro to no end. He took a small, deep breath to calm his nerves. His hand moved to bring his cup of tea up to his pale lips. Blowing gently, he took a sip, the hot liquid burning his tongue pleasurably.

"I am glad to see you safe, Rokudo-sama."

Mukuro placed his cup down with the same effortless grace before everything was taken from him. "Yes, and you seem to enjoy life more than usual, Sora." He took pleasure in seeing the other man flinch. "Do you know why I called you here, giving you such explicit access to my sanctuary?"

Sora stayed quiet, his eyes wary and sad. Mukuro clicked his tongue lightly. "I asked you a question, Sora, and I expect an answer." He smirked. "Or were you expecting me to just hand my life to you that easily? I'm a stubborn man and I don't wish to die just yet. You know that very well."

"I did not expect Nagi to die…"

Mukuro glared. "Do not _speak_ her name."

"Is that why you called me here?" Sora's voice reverted back to a cool, professional tone. "Because I'm more than happy to listen to your burdens and sorrows."

Mukuro smiled thinly. "You are entirely off the mark. I thought you were smarter than that."

"You are not the only one suffering, Rokudo-sama."

The tension in Mukuro's shoulders was becoming more painful. Still, he restrained himself. "Choose your words more wisely."

"Nagi wasn't supposed to die."

Mukuro leapt over the table, ignoring the ache in his weakened body. A loud crash pierced the silence as he wrapped his hands around Sora's throat. The other man widened his eyes, trying to. pry off Mukuro's grip.

"I do not know what you are doing, _Tsunayoshi_," Mukuro hissed, "but you already tried my patience."

The other man inhaled sharply; whether it was because he was found out or from the use of his real name, Mukuro did not care. He had already lost the city he had ruled for years and half of his own wit, his own soul, after his sister's death. What more could he lose now?

"You underestimated me, Tsunayoshi, and that in itself is insulting. I can kill you right now and no one will know. How many people will mourn your death, hm? The skylark perhaps? Or that mongrel of his?"

Tsunayoshi struggled weakly under him, his mouth open and choking desperately for air. Mukuro relished in it. He had control, the control that he had so desired and needed to assure him of his own power. And what better way to show it by taking Tsunayoshi's life with his own hands? Still, that small voice, that small semblance of reason and love that sounded too much like his sister, told him that this wasn't right, that there were other things to worry about.

"Tell me, how _did_ you manage to tame that beast? Was it just coincidence for him to suddenly think intelligently for once?" Mukuro laughed bitterly. "You might as well have killed Nagi yourself for sending that animal to my home. Is that why you came so willingly? Will he fly in here too, and tear me apart?"

"No…"

Mukuro's eyes glinted in the harsh light, his smile never leaving his pale face. "What was that, Tsunayoshi? No? Please, elaborate."

"I…didn't…send him…"

"You're lying."

"Nagi…was…my friend…"

"Keep your mouth _shut_."

"You can't…kill me…"

"You are more foolish than I thought. Your life is quite literally in my hands, did you forget?"

"You won't… Nagi would hate it…"

It was then Mukuro realized his grip had loosened around Tsunayoshi's already bruising neck. He stared at the gasping man, his hands never letting go. Tsunayoshi's skin burned against his palms, his neck so small underneath his larger hands. He could feel the other's pulse beat gently against his fingers. He shuddered, chuckling weakly. "You are cruel and foolish to use my dear Nagi like that against me," Mukuro said. "How much more daft will you be today, I wonder?"

Tsunayoshi's gaze didn't waver under his, though there were still remnants of pain etched on his face. "If being stupid and foolish will ease your pain, then I will continue to do so, Rokudo-sama. I am here to serve you…"

Mukuro laughed, his body aching from the motion. "You spoil me, Tsunayoshi. Tell me, what _have_ you been doing lately?"

Tsunayoshi's lips twitched into a small smile, the movement capturing Mukuro's gaze. "I'm afraid that you are not a part of it."

"Then what am I?"

"A useful tool, if that's what you'd like to hear."

"And was my sweet little sister a tool to you as well?"

Tsunayoshi narrowed his eyes. "Never." He looked away. "She was…never supposed to die."

"I don't believe you," Mukuro said, his voice akin to a whisper.

"Believe what you want if it helps you sleep at night, Rokudo-sama. But I did not send Hibari nor did I expect Nag—"

Mukuro silenced him, catching the words almost breathlessly with his own lips. He drew back to smile, showing some teeth. "Then let me believe what I want, Tsunayoshi."

He then pressed his mouth against Tsunayoshi's again, much rougher this time, more desperate. He bit the other's lip harshly, eliciting a choked groan, before moving a hand up to grip soft brown hair. Their kiss tasted like salt and _asagao_.

* * *

**October 17, 1531: Namimori, Japan: Hibari Household**

Ryohei had perished a week ago from illness. Hana followed her husband by hanging herself the day after. Kyoko drank poison the next night. And just like that, the Sasagawa Clan silently withered away.

Kyoya had taken the news admirably before retreating to his quarters. Takeshi had come to stay with Kyoya, quiet with no words to spare. Hayato did not squabble once with the other man. When the three finally came together again that night, Kyoya was the first to speak, startling the other two out of their stupor. "Everything is strange," he said, his arms crossed against his chest.

Takeshi glanced at him wearily. "What do you mean strange?"

"Mukuro is still alive. I can feel it. His stench is everywhere."

"Hibari-sama," Hayato said, "we already scouted Kokuyo several times. He might've either died from his injuries or ran away to another city, maybe sailed out of the country. No matter, there has been no news of him."

Kyoya scowled, still unconvinced. Something nagged him at the back of his mind. It was small but there. There was something odd going on and it frustrated him to no end when he couldn't pinpoint the source. Ryohei had always been healthy, too healthy, and the fact that he suddenly became ill and died did not make sense. Hana was also a proud woman and would've not subjected herself to something so low as to suicide. She was close friends with Kyoko and would never leave her behind to suffer alone. Kyoko was delicate, but she would've had her friend's support if Hana had lived.

Kyoya may not seem to pay attention to others' relationships, but he wasn't stupid. It was the carnivore's job to observe the pack and then make a decision on how to lure its prey away. This was definitely Mukuro's doing—that herbivore had always been much slyer than the others and did not know the meaning of running away. He always came back one way or another and this wasn't any different.

And Kyoya would make sure to end him the next time they meet.

"What are you going to do now, Hibari?" Takeshi said. "Without Ryohei, most of the alliances that he managed to gain with the other clans are now null. I could try to convince them otherwise, but they pledged their allegiance to him, not you."

"Do what you can then," Hayato said in Kyoya's place. "Kokuyo is already weak and we can manage the larger territory. Either way, alliances aren't the issue now." He hesitated for a moment before squaring his shoulders. "Hibari-sama, I requested an audience with Sora. He told me that he had some information about Rokudo that you would be interested in."

Kyoya bristled. "Why does he know the herbivore?"

Hayato pursed his lips. "Well, he has actually known Rokudo for a while. He was one of his customers."

Before Kyoya could say anything else, a servant announced Sora's arrival and opened the door. The young man was wearing a red kimono with a white obi, which was odd. He must have come from a celebration of sorts. His face looked a bit duller than usual but his eyes were still bright. He bowed. "Good evening, Hibari-sama, Yamamoto-sama, Gokudera-sama."

His voice was still carried the same lyrical lilt. Kyoya momentarily closed his eyes to take in a deep breath. "Herbivore, why did you serve Mukuro?"

Sora pursed his lips. "He was only a client. Many of the daimyos are."

"Why did you not tell me?"

Sora frowned. "I am not obligated to inform you about my clientele, Hibari-sama. Regardless, whatever happens behind closed doors stays there."

Kyoya clicked his tongue and reverted to sipping his tea to quell his anger.

"Sorry about that, Sora," Takeshi said. "It's been difficult lately, for all of us."

Sora's face softened. "Yes. I am very sorry about your loss." He sighed heavily. "It seems that times are becoming much darker now."

"Everything will be alright," Hayato said quickly. "If you are under Hibari-sama's protection, you will be unharmed until the wars are over. I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

"Ah, is that why I was also called here?"

"Well, we were just wondering what information you had on Rokudo as well."

Sora smiled slightly. "Oh, about that. I actually met him a few weeks ago."

Hayato choked on his own tea. "_W—What_?"

Kyoya nearly broke the cup in his hand. "Herbivore."

"He's quite well actually," Sora said, as if he was talking about the weather. "All of his wounds are healed."

"But—But—" Hayato gaped at Sora, trying to find the right words. "Why didn't you tell us?"

Sora raised a brow. "I am not obligated to tell you about my clientele. Really, I only accepted your invitation, Gokudera-sama, to send Hibari-sama's his regards."

Kyoya stood up and unsheathed his blade, pointing it dangerously close at Sora's neck. "Herbivore, you are lying."

Sora didn't even flinch when Hayato stood up to pacify Kyoya. "I do not lie, Hibari-sama." His lips twitched. "Well, I suppose sometimes I do."

A choking gasp caught Kyoya's attention. Hayato gripped his throat and collapsed to the ground. Blood gushed from his mouth, splattering the floor. His eyes were wide in disbelief. Before Kyoya could move, a sudden rush of nausea overcame him. His feet stumbled as he tried to regain his balance.

"Herbivore…"

Sora pushed his blade away from his neck with a cool gaze. "I quite liked you, Hibari-sama, but you had a rather simplistic way of looking about things."

Kyoya's katana slipped from his grasp as he fell. A scorching sensation wracked through his body, making him unconsciously convulse. Gasping, he coughed up blood, tremors wracking through his burning body. His breaths came out ragged, the motion scorching his dry throat. He could see Takeshi move towards Sora, his face so gentle Kyoya wanted scream and lash out. That traitor!

_Why?_

"Rest, Hibari-sama." Sora's voice faded in and out. "Namimori will be in better hands now."

Another cough was Kyoya's response as black spots danced in his blurring vision. He didn't know who to be angrier at—Sora or himself.

How could he have believed that he had loved him once?

* * *

"_Now the city that you knew_

_Has become an empty moor,_

_From which the evening skylark rises_

_While your tears fall."_

_\- _Ōnin Ki

**Author's Note:**

> Historical Facts  
1) The one-shot is based around 16th-century Japan, which was an era of civil strife between warlords for control of the nation. It is also known as the Sengoku Period, or the Age of Warring States, and lasted from 1467-1567.  
2) A taikomochi was a male geisha and existed since the 13th-century. They both advised and entertained the daimyos. By the 16th-century, they were more known as storytellers and sounding boards for military strategies, even fighting with their lords. They were known to be very witty but also humble to show respect to the daimyos.  
3) Camellia is a spring flower in Japan and also known as "tsubaki". It means "humility", "discretion", and "perfect love".  
4) Sumire is the Japanese term for violet. It is also a spring flower and means "a small love", "sincerity", and "small bliss".  
5) Asagao is the Japanese term for morning glory. It is a summer flower and means "brief love".  
6) Momo is the Japanese term for peach. It is a spring flower and means "I am your captive" and "fascinating personality".  
7) Engawa is a non-tatami-matted flooring, like a wooden porch.  
8) Mugicha is a summer drink in Japan. It's basically cold barley tea. During the era of civil strife, military commanders would drink it sometimes as hot tea or mix it with alcohol.  
9) Yokai are Japanese demons.  
10) Yuki Onna means "snow woman". She varies from tale to tale, but is generally a beautiful woman who many encounter in a snowy landscape and ruthlessly kills her victims. The version that Sora tells is purely made-up by the author.  
11) Ame Onna means "rain woman". She is said to be a Chinese goddess who changes forms between clouds and rain. She's often depicted as a melancholic, lonely woman who quietly comes and go with the rain. The version that Sora tells is purely made-up by the author.  
12) The last bit is an excerpt from the Onin Ki, a document that describes the causes and effects of the Onin War. It's classified as a military historical fiction, but is said to have written from a first-person account of the conflict.
> 
> Little Notes and Fun Facts  
1) Tsuna is a really good actor, haha.  
2) He had also poisoned Hibari's tea prior to arriving in his room.  
3) Nagi's death was really just an unfortunate accident. Tsuna didn't foresee her death. It was the result of Mukuro pushing Kyoya a little too far in their fight.  
4) About the Sasagawa Clan's deaths: Tsuna had Lambo/Hideo slowly poison Ryohei's drinks after seducing him on his birthday. Lambo/Hideo also killed Hana and made it look like she committed suicide the day after Ryohei's death. Kyoko was the unfortunate victim to the chains of events.  
5) Tsuna's red and white kimono are prominent traditional colors in Japan. The colors are used in decorations at events that bring joy and happiness. They're also worn at important ceremonies like weddings, birthdays, and other life events. So, essentially, Tsuna was wearing that to celebrate Takeshi's victory in the end, ahahaha... (I don't think I used it right...)
> 
> A/N Uhh, what a twist…? Ahaha.
> 
> Well, this kind of took a life of its own…? I hope it came out alright though. Thank you, Nuvola De Demone, for the prompt! I hope you liked my interpretation of it, haha. A secret assassin but not really assassin Tsuna.
> 
> So, it all started out pretty okay and went dark real fast (sweats nervously). Poor, uh, everyone really, ahaha. Well, except for Takeshi. 'cause he got what he wanted in the end. In other words, Tsuna went around screwing shit up for Takeshi and it all (mostly) worked out in the end. This is basically my way of making it up to the 8027 pairing after the F27 one-shot, lol.
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> LMB


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